


We Both Go Down Together

by teacupsandtime



Category: Hannibal (TV)
Genre: Angst, Canon-Typical Violence, Eventual Romance, Explicit Language, Explicit Sexual Content, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, Post-Episode: s03e13 The Wrath of the Lamb
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-04-14
Updated: 2018-05-05
Packaged: 2019-04-22 22:43:12
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 6
Words: 14,482
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14318655
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/teacupsandtime/pseuds/teacupsandtime
Summary: Will and Hannibal recover and explore their new relationship after The Fall.





	1. Rebirth

_… and while the seagulls are crying,_  
_we fall but our souls are flying,_  
_and oh, my love, my love,  
. . .  
_we both go down together.__

__  


Will was quite certain that he’d shattered every bone in his body when he hit the water. He felt a scream rip from his lungs in a flood of air bubbles that rushed to the surface as his body sank lower into the black depths. For a long moment nothing in his body seemed to respond.

Was he dead? Had he died? Was this it? An eternity spent in a watery grave starved of air. 

His eyes stung as he opened them and realized, no, no he wasn’t dead. He was alive. Somehow, he’d survived the self induced plunge off the cliff and into the cold, unforgiving Atlantic. His lungs burning for oxygen, he kicked at the heels of his shoes, succeeding in pulling them off as he fought his way up; he broke the surface tension with a deafening gasp of air. 

On his tongue he tasted copper and salt. 

Taking in several large mouthfuls of air, he then realized in a panic that he was alone in the dark. Hannibal was gone. Will turned around and around in the water as fast as he could, his eyes desperately searching until he finally locked onto a pair of shoulders bobbing up and down in the water, Hannibal’s face downturned and submerged. 

In a frenzy, Will swam towards him as fast as he could and grabbed a fistful of wet hair, pulling his head back and up more violently than he probably should have. Hannibal’s eyes were closed, his mouth slack. 

“Oh fuck, no,” Will whimpered to his unresponsive body. “No, no, no.” 

Wrapping an arm around his chest, Will began to swim towards the shore. Every wave that hit him seemed to knock him back farther and farther back, seemed to make holding onto Hannibal inhumanly strenuous. 

After an incalculable amount of time, Will finally made it to the wet sand of the shoreline and crawled up to his socked feet. Standing behind Hannibal, Will grabbed him by his sweater near both shoulders and dragged him away from the water. Dropping to his knees beside him, Will put his fingers to Hannibal’s neck and felt no pulse. 

“No, no,” He murmured. “You can’t do this.”

Placing his palms flat over Hannibal’s heart, Will forcefully pushed down and up, down and up, down and up, tracking the number of compressions in his head before he tilted Hannibal’s chin back, pinched his nostrils closed and breathed deeply into his still body. He saw Hannibal's chest rise with his borrowed breath. Again, he inhaled and locked their mouths together and pushed the air from his body into Hannibal’s. 

Leaning back, he locked his flat hands over his chest and began a second series of compressions. He gasped and nearly sobbed as Hannibal suddenly lurched up and coughed water out of his lungs. Will helped roll him to his side as he continued to cough and inhale life back into himself. 

When he was relatively convinced that Hannibal wouldn’t stop breathing again, Will fell backwards onto the sand. After a few more lingering coughs, Will felt Hannibal’s shoulder come to rest against his as he also collapsed onto his back. They lay there like that, chests rising and falling with a newfound purpose, the sounds of their breathing overpowered by the rush of the ocean near their feet. 

Hannibal reached blindly towards Will’s side, fumbling until he found his hand, and threaded their fingers together. 

In this moment, Will’s mind should have been racing between thoughts. They’d just killed a man. He’d just flung them over a cliff to their seemingly unavoidable deaths. The FBI would be looking for them. Jack would be looking for them. Molly would be looking for him. His dogs would be missing him. 

But in this moment, there was nothing else. There was only the fingers locked with his own and the steady rise and fall of their chests as their exhausted bodies gave in to sleep.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Title and lyrics at the beginning from "We Both Go Down Together" by The Decembrists.


	2. 24 Hours

“Will.”

The gentle push on his shoulder brought him back from the black void of sleep. Hannibal’s damp hand came to rest on the side of his face.

“Will. We must go.”

His hand lingered for a moment before it fell away and Hannibal slowly brought himself to his feet. He struggled to find his footing as he grappled with the pain in his side from the bullet lodged within his flesh. He extended a downwards hand to Will who leaned up to grab it and used the leverage of Hannibal’s body weight to pull himself up as well.

Without a word, Will followed Hannibal off the shore and into the trees behind them, trying to avoid debris on the ground as best as he could with the little vision he had. Twigs snapped under their feet as they made their way up a small hill and onto the paved road. Stopping on the yellow line on the asphalt, Hannibal paused and looked in both directions for a moment.

“Where we we going?” Will asked.

Hannibal continued to focus on the road, his eyes scanning back and forth.

“For now, back to the house. I must gather a few things,” he said. “And then we’re leaving.”

Will stared at him, his body starting to shiver from the cool air pushing on his wet clothes. He brought his arms up and around himself.

“However,” Hannibal continued. “we can’t simply take the police car we arrived in.”

As if on cue, a pair of headlights materialized far down the road and Hannibal immediately motioned to Will to move closer.

“Will,” he said. “Please. Come here.”

Will lowered his arms and stepped towards him immediately.

“I need you to lay down on the road,” he said as he cradled the back of his neck and gently pushed him down.

“What?” Will asked though he’d already fallen to his knees on the hard road, Hannibal following suit next to him. “Why?”

“Please, Will,” Hannibal said, pushing him down further so that he was laying on his side in the middle of the road.

Will stayed silent as Hannibal again came to stroke his face with his hand.

_Trust me._

Beams of light accompanied by the sound of tires rolling on asphalt pulled Hannibal away as he carefully stood to his feet and turned around, waving his arms repeatedly above his head. He walked towards the car and came to a halt, both palms outstretched in front of his face.

“Please!” he cried. “Please stop!”

There was a panicked, high pitched desperateness in Hannibal’s voice that sounded positively otherworldly.

Will watched Hannibal walk towards the driver’s side as the car rolled to a stop and the door opened. He couldn’t make out everything that he was saying but he could hear the words “friend” and “help”. Blinded by the headlights, Will squinted as the figures approached him before one of them fell violently to the ground, the other coming to straddle his back.

Hannibal grabbed the sides of the man’s head and violently forced it into the unyielding road before yanking his head back and repeating the acton over and over again until Will was certain that he heard a sickening crack. Throwing his head down once again, Hannibal stood up and dragged the man by his feet back to the car, stopping to pop the truck open, before continuing towards the back of the sedan.

Will came to his feet and walked towards him, stopping at the stains of blood on the asphalt. There were grunts of effort as Hannibal maneuvered the body into the truck - the car shaking with the weight - before he slammed the truck closed and limped back towards the driver’s side door. Their eyes met for a moment before Hannibal slid into the seat and closed the door, looking around at the inside of the car.

Will carefully walked over to the passenger’s side and opened the door. By the time he’d taken a seat, Hannibal was already on the stranger’s phone.

“ _Konbanwa_ , Chiyoh,” he said as he turned to Will, waiting for him to close the door.

Will listened with his head pushed back into the seat as Hannibal began to drive the car down the road, his voice moving back and forth between English and Japanese. Will closed his eyes as they headed back towards Hannibal’s house on the cliff, struggling to stay awake as the vibrations of the car lulled him back toward unconsciousness.

He heard Hannibal end the call as the car came to a stop and his eyes opened.

“We should only stay as long as we have to,” Hannibal said. “Perhaps you’d like to come in find some shoes?”

Will nodded and followed Hannibal back into the house, The Great Red Dragon laying as they’d left him in a fan of blood. Moving quickly, Hannibal walked back into the bedroom with Will following slowly behind. By the time he’d stepped through the threshold Hannibal had produced two large duffel bags and had them laying on the bed.

“There are shoes there,” he said, motioning to the closet. “There are some boots in the back.”

Will opened the doors of the walk in closet as Hannibal grabbed the bags and left the room, tossing a pair of socks on the bed as he did. His closet was everything Will had expected it to be: hangers and hangers of jackets and dress shirts, slacks folded in drawers and shoes arranged on shelves. Will’s fingers grazed over one of the jackets as his eyes scanned for something that looked comfortable before finding a pair of black work boots.

Grabbing the pair, he took a seat on the bed and removed his wet socks before placing the dry ones on and pushing his feet into the boots. The fit was near perfect. Coming to his feet, Will turned and frowned at the mark his wet pants had left on the plush duvet. He smoothed it out with his hands before grabbing his wet socks and moving to join Hannibal in the kitchen.

“Thank you,” he said.

Hannibal nodded as he took note of the boots he’d selected.

“Of course,” he said, walking towards him with a glass of water. “Are you ready to go?”

There was another small bag on the table, the two large duffel bags on the floor by the door. Will took the glass of water offered to him and drank it down quickly, the cool liquid soothing his parched throat.

“Where are we going?”

“Right now, we’re simply going away,” he explained. “We need to get away and rest, consider things. I need to take care of this - ”

His hand moved to his side where the bullet had dug in.

“And you need be attended to as well.”

Will’s tongue pushed against the hole in his cheek.

“That is, of course, unless you don’t wish to come with me.”

There was the slightest hint of tension in his voice - of uncertainty.

“Where else would I go?”

Hannibal regarded him in silence before he turned and grabbed the bag from the counter and the slung the bags on the floor over his shoulder.

“Then let’s go.”

The sound of their feet on the floor seemed unusually loud as they made their way back to the car, Will placing the empty glass on the counter as they passed it. He moved back into the passenger’s seat as Hannibal tossed the bags in the backseat and joined him in the car.

_It’s nearing dawn. My name is Will Graham. I’m in a car with Hannibal Lecter in somewhere in Maryland and there is a dead body in the truck._

“Are you okay to drive?” Will asked, amazed that the other man didn’t seem to be tired. Though, he’d undoubtedly had years and years of practice.

“Yes,” Hannibal said as he started the car.

Without another word, the car drove off into the night. As they settled into their drive, Will felt himself slip away again. He woke up several times to find that they were still on the road, though each time his eyes opened there was more and more light in the sky. By the time the car came to a final stop, the sun was fully up.

Rubbing his eyes, Will looked up at the inconspicuous, borderline rundown motel past the hood of the car.

“We’re here.”

Opening the door, Hannibal climbed out and grabbed the bags from the backseat before making his way down the wall of rooms, coming to stop in front of the chipping number ‘9”. His knuckles were rapping on the door softly as Will came to stand behind him. After a moment, the door opened.

“ _Ohayou_ , Chiyoh.”

The slender woman in front of them moved aside to let them pass, her eyes locking with Will’s as she closed the door behind them. The room was dark - the curtains drawn - but Will could still see that this wasn’t the type of place that Hannibal Lecter ever would have elected to stay had there been any other choice.

The carpet was hard and thin at his feet and undoubtedly filthy. The wall was a drab and inoffensive grey, worn end tables on either side of the single queen bed, brass lamps on either end. There was a small bathroom and desk, a comically small couch, a television mounted to the wall and a dresser, and not much else. Will’s legs felt heavy, a haze coming over him as he turned to watch Hannibal and Chiyoh speak, plans being made in gentle English.

She was taking the car. She’d be back. This was something final and absolute between them.

Hannibal thanked her, and squeezed her hand. Her faced looked sad - anxious - as she gazed at Will one last time before she left the room. Hannibal locked the door behind her and moved past Will towards the bed, dropping the duffel bags on the cheap, ugly bedspread and unzipping them.

He produced a white medical bag from within one of them.

“We need to get clean and bandaged,” Hannibal said.

There was no response.

“Will?”

Will met his eyes with an understanding but Hannibal knew that he was in no state to tend to himself.

“Come,” he said as he motioned towards the small bathroom.

Will followed him and closed his eyes as the harsh light flooded the small space when Hannibal flipped the switch at the wall. Leaning down, Hannibal turned on the faucet as water came out of the shower head, starting with a small spurt and then continuing into a steady stream, hitting the discolored tub.  
The paint on the walls was cracked and peeling.

Stepping towards him, Hannibal reached out and placed his fingers on the buttons of Will’s shirt, his eyes on his fingers as he started to undo them. Will stared at the grey hair falling into his downturned eyes as the last button was undone and the shirt gently pushed off his shoulders and down his arms. With it removed, Hannibal looked closely at the wound on the right side of his chest. He reached out and moved his fingers around it, pushing down gently and watching as a thin stream of blood came out.

“This will heal well,” he said. “But we need to get it cleaned.”

Hannibal looked up and carefully touched Will’s right cheek, a large slit in it from the Great Red Dragon’s knife.

“This too.”

Steam had started to fog up the small room.

“Will,” Hannibal whispered. “Will you be alright on your own?”

There was a deep, knowing ache in his gut that told him that for all of his past preferences for solitude, Will didn’t want to be alone anymore. He didn’t want to be without Hannibal anymore. He thought back to their conversation in Italy - conjoined twins not being able to survive separation. In this moment, standing in a cheap motel bathroom, those words were a biting reality.

“You should stay.”

The sound of the water falling into the tub seemed to bounce around the room as Hannibal moved away and pulled his sweater over his head. With a surprising shyness, Will lowered his gaze and moved to take off his dirty, bloody pants. By the time he’d removed the clean socks from his feet, Hannibal was fully naked and standing in the tub, one hand outstretched in offering.

Gratefully, Will took it and carefully joined him as Hannibal pulled the cheap plastic curtain closed. They maneuvered around the small tiled space as Hannibal guided Will to stand under the shower head, his eyes immediately falling closed as he was flooded with warmth. His lids remained closed as he heard Hannibal pop open the small bottle of generic shampoo, his fingers coming to work into his hair.

Will wagered that it was the single most pleasurable experience of his life.

After it was worked into a lather, the shampoo was rubbed out entirely and Hannibal turned his soapy hands to the gash on Will’s face. He rubbed the skin gently, removing small specks of caked on blood that had managed to linger until now. Will winced slightly but did not pull away. Hie eyes opened and found the hole at Hannibal’s abdomen.

“Will that be okay?”

_Will you be okay?_

Without looking down, Hannibal nodded.

“Yes, it doesn’t appear to have hit anything vital.”

_Yes, I’ll be okay._

Will reached for the bar of soap on the shelf built into the wall and wet it with his hand before leaning in moving it carefully around the wound there. In small circles, he worked his hands carefully around not only the bullet hole, but the rest of Hannibal’s bruised chest and torso. There was a tremendous angry bruise forming on his stomach where The Great Red Dragon had driven his foot in.

Will could feel his eyes starting grow heavy again. He was so fucking tired.

Reaching behind him, Hannibal shut off the water and firmly grabbed Will by the shoulders, checking to be sure that he was solid on his feet. Pulling back the curtain, he stepped out onto the cheap, fuzzy bath mat and grabbed a starchy towel from the rack, handing it to Will who clasped it with both hands.

As Will stepped out of the tub, Hannibal grabbed another towel and wrapped it around his waist as he headed back to the main room. Will watched as he opened the white medical kit.

“Will,” he said turning towards him. “I may need you to remove the bullet.”

His upper body was slick with water. It made the hair on his chest glisten.

Will found it strange that he should need his help to do anything.

“Will?” he asked again. “Can you do that?”

“Yeah, yes,” he said softly. “You, uh, you just need to walk me through it.”

“Of course,” Hannibal nodded.

He produced a bottle of rubbing alcohol, gauze, bandages, and a pair of small forceps.

“I don’t suppose there is anything in there that I can wear?” Will asked, pointing to the duffel bags.

Hannibal continued with his work.  
“Yes,” he said. “The one on the left.”

Will’s brows furrowed together in surprise and curiosity as he opened the bag and peered inside. He pulled out a new pair of dark blue jeans and a blue and white gingham button up. There was also two pairs of plain cotton boxers, two white t-shirts and two pairs of white socks. He gathered everything up in his arms and looked towards Hannibal wordlessly.

Feeling his gaze, Hannibal stopped moving through the supplies and met his eyes.

“I always assumed you’d be here,” he admitted in a low, honest voice. “Though I’d miscalculated the time.”

Something in Will’s gut dropped.

“When did you pack this?”

Hannibal turned back to the tools he was arranging on the small table by the window.

“Before Abigail.”

Will swallowed the lump in his throat and silently put on the boxers, leaving one of the two new white shirts out on the bed. More than anything else it moved him that Hannibal had packed clothes he would have been comfortable in. There was, however, only one real outfit there; as if Hannibal had been unsure even when he’d packed it.

Hannibal had just finished sterilizing the forceps.

“Come, Will,” he said as he took a seat in one of the two worn out chairs on one side of the table.

Will came towards him and unwrapped a pair of blue medical gloves laying on the table.

“You’ll need to push in and feel for the bullet,” he said. “It shouldn’t be too far in.”

“Do you have anything?” Will asked. “I mean, like anesthetic?”

“Yes,” he said as he rubbed the area around the bullet hole with an alcohol drenched cotton swab. “But that should be reserved.”

“Reserved? Reserved for what?” Will asked, almost laughing. “For when a bullet is about to be dug out of you by someone who doesn’t really know what they’re doing?”

“Will.”

Sighing, Will pulled the gloves up over his wrists and came to kneel in front of Hannibal on the chair. When he had situated himself, Hannibal handed him the forceps and moved to grab at the armrests of the chair.

“As quick as you can please.”

Will looked into his eyes before he placed one gloved hand around the wound and then pushed the metal inside. He felt Hannibal’s body stiffen, heard a low, controlled grunt bounce in his throat, but aside from that he didn’t move. Will maneuvered the forceps around, pushing in deeper until he felt them tap the bullet. Hannibal’s fingers dug into the chair and Will could feel the exhale from his nose hitting the top of his head as he managed to close the forceps around the bullet and pull it out in one fluid movement.

He heard Hannibal sigh then as he dropped the forceps onto of sprawled out medical gauze on the table.

“You need stitches,” he said as he soaked a cotton ball with rubbing alcohol and careful ran it over the wound.

“Yes,” Hannibal said. “But I can tend to that if you’d rather not.”

“No,” Will said. “No, it’s fine.”

Reaching up, Will grabbed the kit of medical sutures and braced a hand against Hannibal’s abdomen again.

“Ready?”

“Yes.”

There was something oddly therapeutic about stitching Hannibal back together. Perhaps it was feeling him vulnerable under his fingers as he pierced and re-pierced his flesh with the curved needle before cutting the thread with the small, steel scissors on the table and tying it off. Finally, he grabbed the long roll of nonstick gauze and motioned for Hannibal to lean forward so that he could wrap it around him three times.

“Very efficient,” Hannibal said.

“Yeah, well, I was a cop in another life,” Will said. “I’ve done this part before.”

Will stood to his feet as Hannibal moved to do the same, placing his hand lightly on his stomach as he walked towards the bed.

“Please have a seat, Will,” he said as he rummaged through the bags on the bed.

Will took off the gloves and did as he was told. Hannibal approached him moments later, having put on a long pair of soft pajama pants. Opening the medical bag once again, he produced a syringe and vial.

“No,” Will said immediately.

“It is only a local anesthetic, Will,” Hannibal explained.

“No, I know, just, it’s fine.”

_It’s not that I think I’m going to wake up tied to a chair with you about to saw into my head._

Lowering his head, Hannibal placed it back in the bag and put on a new pair of blue gloves as he came to kneel in front of Will, just as the younger man had done before. Taking a cotton ball he pressed it against the bottle of rubbing alcohol and turned it upside down briefly before righting it and placing it on Will’s cheek, his other gloved hand resting against his neck.

“This could have been much worse,” he said. “You should be fine with skin glue.”

Will closed his eyes as Hannibal squeezed the cool, thick liquid on top of the gash and pinched it closed with his fingers. Will hissed.

“Try not to grimace,” he whispered. “Only for a moment.”

After reaching the end of the countdown in his head, Hannibal pulled back and placed a thin, white bandage over the wound. He soothed it down with a flat, careful hand.

“This one will need stitches,” he said, eyes fixed on the stab wound on his chest.

Repeating his steps, Hannibal meticulously cleaned the wound and then wove the sutures through WIll’s skin, pulling the small hole closed. Will watched him work, the brown eyes sharply focused, wisps of damp hair falling around his forehead.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal asked.

_It's obscene how alright I am._

“I’m fine,” he said as Hannibal finished his work. “I’m just tired.”

“Well,” Hannibal said as he came to his feet. “You may sleep now though first I would encourage you to take these for the pain.”

In his hand Hannibal held two nondescript white pills. Will took them - his fingertips brushing the palm of Hannibal’s hand - and swallowed them without water. When he stood, he felt his head grow light again. Padding over to the bed, he carefully placed the bags on the floor and pulled the shirt he’d left out over his head and slowly down his torso. Pulling back the covers he crawled under the sheets.

It didn’t matter that those sheets probably hadn’t been washed in weeks nor that the comforter had a stale smell about it; it was the most comfortable bed that Will Graham had ever been in.

He sighed - exhausted - and moved to turn off the lamp on the table near his head when he saw Hannibal grab the pillow from the other side of the bed and move toward the pathetic couch hugging the wall.

“What are you doing?” Will asked.

Hannibal stopped and looked up at him as if it were the most obvious thing in the world.

This man who’d killed, mutilated, and _eaten_ other human begins. This man who’d hidden his encephalitis from him. This man who’d opened his belly and left him in a pool of blood on his kitchen floor. This man who wouldn’t presume to share a bed with him for fear of being rude.

“Don’t be ridiculous,” Will said as he pulled back the sheets next to him.

Unable to form any additional words, Will fell back and shut the light off at his side. He felt the mattress dip and moan with Hannibal’s weight as he settled in next to him with a small groan. The light on the other side of the bed turned off with a small click.

Will Graham was asleep thirty seconds later.


	3. 48 Hours

When Will next opened his eyes, there was still bright yellow light streaming in around the edges of the dense curtains which covered the main window of the room. Blinking his eyes hard he struggled to make out the numbers on the digital clock near his head. 

2:33. 

Turning his head back he found himself focusing on the off white ceiling. He slowly took account of each of his body parts, starting with his toes. He was still struggling with the fact that he was here, in a rundown motel room, rather than floating in a cold Atlantic tomb. In the pit of his stomach, Will felt a familiar twang; a pinch that told him that he should not be okay, he should not be calm. 

He was officially on the run. 

The Great Red Dragon had set Hannibal free and instead of taking them both back to Baltimore, they’d followed him together. They’d waited to draw the Dragon out and in the end, they’d killed him together. A feeling had raced through Will’s body - the same as when he’d killed Randall Tier. A feeling of power and arousal, of purpose and belonging. Only this time those feelings had been amplified by sharing the act; by slashing him open with Hannibal. It was then that Will had understood everything: all of Hannibal’s schemes and betrayals, all the heartbreak - it had all be leading up to that moment. 

_This is all I ever wanted for you, Will._

And when the pleasure of that moment had momentarily lapsed, when a stab of his old self had latched into his mind, Will had elected to throw himself and Hannibal into the ocean; an attempt to spare the world from the monster he’d become and the monster who’d led him there. 

But he’d failed. 

They had survived and when Will gulped down air after breaking through the surface of that briny water it was the air of a new man - the same air he used to breathe life back into Hannibal. 

Sighing softly, Will rolled over and faced the monster beside him. 

Hannibal was sleeping on his side facing him, one arm pulled to his chest and the other pressed into the mattress, hand up near his face. His features seemed gentle with the spare light coming in though the curtains. The hair on his head disheveled slightly, his lips parted as he breathed in and out effortlessly. He seemed soft. Human. 

Nothing about what had happened was difficult for him Will wagered. Though he wondered if his presence had brought about a pleasant complication. 

It was then that Will was struck with a sudden aching need to touch him. 

Without letting himself think about it, he slowly reached out and touched his fingertips to Hannibal’s cheek. The skin under his was warm from slumber. Before he could pull away, Hannibal’s eyes were open - quiet and questioning. 

Will didn’t move his fingers. 

“Will?” came a whisper. “Are you alright?”

Will’s hand dropped to the mattress by Hannibal’s bent arm. He nodded. 

“How much time do we have?”

Blinking sleep from his eyes, Hannibal craned his neck up and over Will’s shoulder to check the clock. 

“We don’t need to be gone from here until the early morning,” he said. “Plenty of time left still.”

Will’s fingers gripped at the sheets by Hannibal’s chin. 

“Unless you were inquiring about how much time we have left as a construct?”

Will wasn’t entirely sure what he meant. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was thinking. He wasn’t entirely sure what he was feeling. It was something between exhaustion, gratefulness, and vitality. 

He brought his hand back up to Hannibal’s face, pressing his palm flat against his cheek. Hannibal regarded him in silence as Will moved his body closer and very softly pressed their lips together. Hannibal’s eyes betrayed his surprise, but only momentarily. He let the arm resting above his head come to tangle in Will’s hair as they separated their mouths and brought them back together. 

In the quiet of the room they breathed into each other, their embrace never deepening. 

Will had never kissed a man before and in this moment he found himself thinking that it wasn’t as foreign as he would have thought. There was a hardness there, a firm pressure that felt dangerous but also inviting and warm. But this man was Hannibal Lecter, and it wasn’t going to be like kissing anyone else, male or female or anywhere in between. There had never been anyone in his life that Will felt as close and connected to. 

With another kiss, Will took Hannibal’s bottom lip in between his and pulled away, resting his head close to his. Hannibal’s hand stayed above his head, fingers playing carefully in the curls there. Will felt himself falling into the feeling of his hair being slightly pulled and released and pushing his forehead into Hannibal’s chin, he tumbled back to sleep. 

**

Will wasn’t sure what time it was when he woke up again and he didn’t care to know. Slowly the same white ceiling came into view and he began to realize that his body felt different; there was weight on his chest and a tickle under his nose. Tilting his head down, his eyes came to focus on the crown of Hannibal’s head, the older man’s cheek resting above his heart. 

Will could feel his heartbeat passing through his chest and into Hannibal’s ear. 

The white cotton shirt he’d put on before he’d crawled under the sheets was pushed up slightly, Hannibal’s limp fingers resting on the jagged, horizontal scar on his belly. 

**

“Will.” 

A voice from beyond. 

“Will, I apologize for waking you but you must start to rise.” 

Opening his eyes, Will blinked as the room came into focus. The light outside the window was nearly gone; he’d slept all day. Grimacing at the pain in his shoulder, he came to sit up against the headboard of the bed. 

“I call this coffee only because it seems to technically meet the requirements,” Hannibal said as he placed a flimsy paper cup on the bedside table next to him. “But it should help wake you up.”

Reaching for it, Will took a long sip, ignoring that it was just a bit too hot to comfortably do so.

“Thank you,” he said. 

“Of course.”

Hannibal was showered and dressed in a clean pair black jeans and black short sleeved shirt. Kneeling on the ground, he rummaged through one of the duffel bags. 

“I don’t think I’ve ever seen you in short sleeves,” Will said. “Let alone jeans.”

“You have never been with me under these precise circumstances.”

Clutching a smaller black bag in his hands Hannibal came to sit on the bed, his lower back pressing into Will’s legs. 

“Are you hungry?”

Will surprised himself with the thought that question required to answer. 

“Jesus,” he said. “Yeah. Somehow I hadn’t thought about it until now. I’m starving.” 

“Perfectly normal,” Hannibal said. “There have been plenty of things to distract your stomach.”

Will took another sip of coffee and pulled his legs in to sit crosslegged under the covers. 

“I’m afraid there is no way to obtain something hot, but this should do for now,” Hannibal said, handing Will the bag. “There are some bars made with almond butter, flax, and chia, some smoked jerky, and some mixed nuts and dried fruit.”

Reaching into the bag, Will grabbed the jerky first. As he unwrapped it from the film that clung to it, he met Hannibal’s eyes. 

“Mostly beef,” came the answer to the unasked question. 

Not that it mattered. 

Tearing off a piece, Will felt his mouth water as soon as it hit his tongue. 

“It’s delicious,” he said in between chews. 

For a moment they ate there in silence, filling themselves as best as they could with what they had. After taking a bite of one of the homemade bars which was, of course, also impeccable, Will set the food on his lap. 

“So, where are we?” he asked. “Where are we going?”

He couldn’t get over the image of Hannibal dressed so casually, eating from a small bag in his lap; he seemed so malleable. 

“Presently we are just outside New York,” he began, fully swallowing the food in his mouth before he began speaking. “Within two hours I’d like for us to be on our way. We have a new car outside.”

Right. Chiyoh. 

Something in Hannibal’s face changed. His features fell a bit. 

“Will,” he said meeting his gaze. “We should talk about this first. I worry that you may not quite understand the reality of what will happen if you come with me.”

His face looked tight, as if braced for impact. 

“If you come away with me now, you most likely will never come back to any aspect of your life here. Your friendships. Your dogs. Your little house that reminds you of a boat on the sea. Your wife. These things will all be lost to you.”

Will couldn’t help but notice that he’d saved Molly for last. Though if it was to make a more impactful point or comment on her position in his life he couldn’t be sure. 

“It is highly plausible that you will never see these things - these people - ever again.” 

Will shifted and pulled his knees in tighter, swallowing a lump in his throat. 

“But in exchange for what?” Will asked. “What do I get in return?”

Hannibal blinked slowly and opened his mouth, pausing before he spoke. 

“In exchange you’ll live as you were meant to,” he said softly. “You’ll live your life as you’d like, doing what you’d like and when you’d like to do it. And you’ll be with me.”

_We’d be together._

“Would we kill?”

The room seemed to lose all sound; Will could hear the blood in his ears.

“If you’d like, yes.”

“Will you kill?”

“Yes,” he said with no hesitation. 

Will’s brain raced back again to Randall Tier breaking through the window of his living room. Placing his shotgun aside, he’d throttled him and brought his fists down into him. In that moment, he’d pictured Hannibal under him, fantasizing about breaking his face as the good doctor smiled underneath his violence. Concentrated and calm he’d broken his neck, remembering how steady his heart rate felt. 

Hannibal had sent this animal in a man suit to Will as a test. And as he dragged his body to his car to begin the drive to Baltimore, he knew he’d passed. Hannibal had won; he’d awoken in him a collected capacity and love of violence that he’d be fighting his entire life. 

Years later, after escaping the clutches of Mason Verger, he’d tried to return to normalcy by finding himself a good woman and leaving his work at the FBI. As the time passed he’d struggled to keep Hannibal out of his mind but he was never truly gone. During family dinners he’d poke at the meat on his plate and think about him. Late at night he’d lay with Molly’s arms around him and wonder how long it would take for him to squeeze the life out of her - not out of malice but curiosity and satisfaction. 

Still he’d kept it at bay. 

Until Hannibal came back into his life - until The Great Red Dragon. Until he and Hannibal had slashed him open in the moonlight. Until he’d thrown them into the ocean. It had been his Becoming and the emergence from the sea a painful and exhausting labor and rebirth. 

“Do you understand, Will?” Hannibal pressed.

Will felt his eyes water, the cool tingle of relief washing through him. 

“I do,” he said, softly but sternly. Committed. 

He let those words hang in the air. 

“Do you?” he asked back. 

Hannibal’s lips curved up in the smallest of smiles. 

“I do.”

Will’s body felt as if it were made of air. 

“Then there’s nothing else left to question,” he said. “So where will we go?”

Running a hand over his jeans, Hannibal came to stand. 

“We will continue to drive north, stopping just before we exit New York to obtain new passports which I will arrange momentarily.”

Looking down at the bags, Will could now see large bundles of cash in one of them.  
“We’ll continue onto Boston and spend two evenings in far more hospitable accommodations. Then we’ll board a plane to Argentina.”

_Of course. No criminal extraction treaty with the United States._

“After some time we can move,” he continued. “I would still like to show you Florence.”

“I’ve seen it,” Will said. 

Hannibal turned to face him, his body seeming to vibrate with excitement. 

“Not with me. Not as I’d planned.”

It was then that Will remembered kissing him - bringing their lips together in this rundown room as if it were the most natural thing in the world. In that moment, he wanted to untangle himself from the bed, go to him, and do it again. 

But he didn’t. 

“You should shower and get ready,” Hannibal said. 

Climbing out of the bed, Will felt exposed in the boxers and t-shirt he wore. As he shuffled towards the bathroom, Hannibal stopped him with a hand on his wrist. He fingers lingered there while his other hand came up to carefully rest on Will’s neck, his thumb rubbing the skin near the mark on his cheek.

“Beautiful,” he said. “It’s healing well.”


	4. 72 Hours

Will was jolted out of a light sleep as he felt the car come to a stop. It was still dark outside but the morning light was just starting to peak through the clouds above him. They’d been on the road around an hour and had now stopped at a small Mom and Pop coffee shop.

Reaching behind him and into the bags in the backseat, Hannibal produced an envelope which Will could only assume was full of cash.  
“I will only be a moment,” he said. “Would you care for any coffee?”

“Yeah,” he said as he stifled a yawn. “Sure.”

Hannibal was gone less than five minutes before he returned with a cup of coffee in each hand and a manilla envelope under his arm. Reaching over, Will popped the door open for him. As Hannibal got back into the driver’s seat of the grey four door sedan, he handed the folder to him, placed their drinks in the cup holders, and drove them back to Interstate 90.

Inside were two passports which looked both new and simultaneously worn. Will flipped through the first one of Danish origin and found Hannibal’s photo inside.

“Lucas Anderson,” Will said and he looked towards Hannibal. “Suits you.”

Hannibal kept his eyes on the road as Will picked up the second passport from the United States. For some reason he was surprised to find that the quality of his passport mirrored Hannibal’s.

“Jesus, how did you do this all so fast?” he asked incredulously. “And where did you get a passport photo of me?”

“Careful planning, Will,” he said. “I had more time to plan for all of this than you may realize.”

“I think you mean ‘careful planning, Johnathan’,” he said. “Johnathan Harris.”

Hannibal smiled a little as Will put the passports back in the folder and placed it at his feet.

“How long?” he asked.

Hannibal shot him a quick sideways glance.

“I mean, how long . . . when did you first start thinking that this would be a possibility?”

The sun was just starting to crest over the horizon and there were few other cars on the road. It made Will feel like they were totally alone.

“In fantasy when you came back to therapy,” he said. “In earnest, when I thought you’d killed Ms. Lounds.”

The two of them had never had a real conversation about that night. Partially because of the pain it brought back to the surface and partially because they both knew the answers to every question the other would have asked.

Still, it astounded Will sometimes that he felt the need to apologize for everything that had happened that night; to be guilt ridden over breaking Hannibal’s heart and betraying his trust after he’d murdered and cannibalized so many people, including Beverly. After he’d set his brain on fire and framed him for murder. After he’d opened Abagail’s throat in front of him as punishment. After everything that Hannibal had done, it was Will who’d felt like he’d been in the wrong when Hannibal had dug the blade across his belly and tenderly held him.

_Love’ll do that._

Will was someone who was comforted by labels and for a long time now he’d been discomforted by his inability to define exactly how he felt about Hannibal. At least in regards to using words other than “blinding and seething anger and rage” as he once did. His feelings had started to get murky the night he’d brought Randall Tier’s body to Hannibal’s home and deposited it on his dining room table.

Hannibal had sat him down and gently tended to his battered knuckles and Will, still flushed, had fallen into the feeling of the warm water and Hannibal’s hands. It was the first time Will could remember seeing him as a man, and not a monster. His first real foray into Hannibal’s world and understanding first hand rather than through empathy what made him tick.

When Hannibal was locked away, Will would get pangs of that same feeling which seemed to grow the more he stayed away from the Baltimore State Hospital for the Criminally Insane. When he finally went to see him, three years after Hannibal had surrendered, he’d felt a lump in his throat that wasn’t anger or indifference.

When they’d stood on the edge of the bluff that night, covered in blood and delirious with pleasure and exhaustion, Will had felt an intense urge to kiss him. But instead, he threw them both into the sea.

The second time he’d felt like kissing him, he’d done it.

“Was it weird that I kissed you?”

_Jesus Fucking Christ._

__Will felt his face flush a deep red as he sank back into his seat, his eyes affixed firmly on the road._ _

__“Did you purposefully wait to ask that question until I was driving?” Hannibal asked in a tone light with amusement._ _

__Will kept his mouth shut though Hannibal waited a moment for him to answer._ _

__“No,” Hannibal continued. “It was not ‘ _weird_ ’.”_ _

__“Look, I know it was a stupid thing to say,” Will finally managed. “I just wanted to make sure that it didn’t make you uncomfortable.”_ _

__Yes, wouldn’t want the Chesapeake Ripper to feel uncomfortable._ _

__“That’s kind, Will,” Hannibal said. “But as you’ll recall I didn’t stop you.”_ _

__Will’s memory of that first night was hazy but he did remember the feeling of Hannibal’s fingers in his hair and the continued pressure of his mouth against his; waking up with Hannibal sleeping against his chest._ _

__“I know,” Will said. “I guess I wanted to get it out there.”_ _

__“Get what out where, Will,” Hannibal asked, flashing him another quick glance. “The question of my comfortability or the fact that it happened?”_ _

__Will felt like they were back in Hannibal’s office sitting across from each other._ _

__“Both.”_ _

__There was a long pause._ _

__“Are you okay that it happened?” Will asked. “Are you glad?”_ _

__“Neither of those words adequately convey the feelings I have for you or the other evening,” he said. “I would think that my feelings for you were quite obviously more complicated.”_ _

__Will snorted with a small laugh._ _

__“You know, for all of your education and profound psychological insight you’re really bad at just answering questions sometimes.”_ _

__“Yes, Will,” Hannibal said plainly. “I was pleased at what happened.”_ _

__The sun had finally crested and Hannibal lowered the driver’s side visor to keep it out of his eyes. His face still flushed, Will turned to look at him; Hannibal’s skin was glowing from the light. Feeling his gaze, Hannibal turned to face him._ _

__“Was that what you were hoping to hear?”_ _

__Unable to get the words out, Will only nodded._ _

__**_ _

__It was around four hours later when they finally parked outside the hotel in downtown Boston. Heading to the lobby they quickly checked in - Will taking note of the visible security cameras at the front desk - and then made their way to the 11th floor._ _

__Opening the room with a keycard, Hannibal stepped in and held the door for Will who followed behind him. The room was stunning. Before them was a spacious living area with two plush couches and a city on full display thanks to a floor to ceiling window. There was a bathroom with a shower and separate, deep tub with jets. There was even a small kitchen._ _

__Everything smelled so clean._ _

__“Wow,” Will said, not being able to hide his surprise._ _

__“Yes,” Hannibal agreed. “It’s quite nice.”_ _

__Placing the bags near the door, Hannibal handed Will a separate keycard._ _

__“Your room should be exactly the same with the exception of the kitchen,” he said. “You can leave and enter through the hallway or just use that door.”_ _

__Will looked at the unsuspecting door in the corner that connected their two rooms._ _

__“Great,” he said._ _

__“Tonight, if it’s alright with you, I would very much like to order room service as I am quite tired,” Hannibal said. “But tomorrow, I would like to cook for you if you’ll permit me.”_ _

__“Sure,” Will said._ _

__“Tomorrow we can also pick you up a few more articles of clothing.”_ _

__“Yeah, that sounds good.”_ _

__There was no real thought or consideration in any of Will’s short responses._ _

__Hannibal took a step towards him._ _

__“Will?”_ _

__Will looked at him, his eyes tired. His body still looking strange in such causal clothing._ _

__“What is on your mind?”_ _

__“Oh, lots of things,” Will said. “I’m thinking about how long it’s going to take before Jack stops looking for our bodies. I’m wondering then how long he’ll search for us. I’m wondering if being in such a big city is a good idea. I’m wondering how nervous I’m going to be going through security at the airport. And I’m really wondering what it would be like to kiss you again.”_ _

__The color rose in his cheeks as Hannibal regarded him with gentle eyes._ _

__“While I cannot provide absolutes to many of those questions Will, I can tell you with a stedfast confidence that by the time Jack and the FBI stops searching for our bodies and begins the process of attempting to locate us alive we will be quite unfindable.”_ _

__He took another small step toward him.__

__  
“I can tell you that I am not naïve in these things and that I would never do anything which might jeopardize our escape or our future.”_ _

__He was right in front of him now._ _

__“I can also tell you that when it comes time to board the plane, I will be there beside you and that I won’t let anything keep us from leaving,” he continued. “But as to your last point, I cannot offer any advice, as I myself have been wondering the same thing.”_ _

__It seemed strange. With everything that was happening, with such a profound and irreversible change about to take place in his life, that Will was finding himself alone with Hannibal in a lavish hotel room and about to kiss him. For the second time. For all the insight that his empathy disorder afforded him he never, ever would have even remotely considered that this was where his bond with Hannibal would lead him._ _

__Stepping in, Will quickly wrapped a hand around the side of his neck and pulled him in until their mouths met. His other hand came to grip lightly on Hannibal’s exposed arm, just above his elbow as he pushed into him deeper. Gradually their lips opened more and more, tongues darting out experimentally._ _

__Hannibal’s hands were on him now, one in his hair and another at his waist, slipping behind to the small of his back and pulling him closer. Their bodies were flush against each other and Will could feel himself loosing his balance as he struggled to get even closer. With a loud thud he managed to push Hannibal back into a wall as the older man broke their kiss slightly in surprise, smiling against his mouth before he reached for him again._ _

__Slipping his hands under his shirt, Will felt his warm skin and the tickle of the cotton gauze around his abdomen. If he could have melted into him he would have. Pulling back for a moment, Hannibal’s hand came to cup his jaw, his mouth leaving small kisses on his temple, cheek, jaw, and neck. He stayed there, kissing and sucking the flesh of his throat - his tongue lapping to take in his taste._ _

__Will heard the unmistakable sound of Hannibal deeply breathing in his scent._ _

__“I miss your aftershave.”_ _

__Will’s laughter tumbled out of him as he pulled Hannibal’s head up so he could kiss his mouth again._ _

__“I thought you hated it.”_ _

__“I do,” he said softly. “It’s vile. But I’ve grown to love it.”_ _

__Kissing him again, Will lowered his hands to Hannibal’s hips and felt his rigid length pressing against him. His own body was responding in turn and suddenly he felt very overwhelmed and nervous._ _

__“Listen,” he said, bringing their foreheads together. “I don’t want you to think that I’m not enjoying this.”_ _

_How could you with my erection literally pressing into your thigh?_

__“But I don’t really know what I’m doing and I don’t want to disappoint you.”_ _

__Hannibal placed a firm hand on the side of his face._ _

__“Will,” he said. “There is no possible way that you could ever disappoint me. I don’t think that you understand the depth of my feelings for you - of the love I have for you.”_ _

__That word made Will pull back so he could look into his eyes. He’d known for quite some time that Hannibal was in love with him - or at least strongly suspected - but it was one thing to ponder it and another to hear it spoken._ _

__“I have encountered many interesting and unique individuals in my time. Never in my life have I encountered someone like you. Someone I so desperately desire to be close to, to share in my life.”_ _

__He kissed his forehead._ _

__“Being with you is all I’ve ever wanted,” he continued. “This new circumstance is simply a very pleasurable complication to this equation.”_ _

__Will found himself leaning in and resting his head on his chest, just as he’d done the evening they’d slayed the Dragon. Hannibal’s hand moved up the nape of his neck and came to tangle in his hair._ _

__“I am beyond content with you like this,” he whispered, his breath warm on Will’s ear. “If you’d like to proceed I would be delighted; if you’d like to stop, I would be delighted. All I need is you here with me.”_ _

__It was strange to hear Hannibal speaking so honestly, so unguarded; strange and wild and wonderful._ _

__Lifting his head, Will leaned in and kissed his flush and swollen lips again. He pushed his body against his firmly once more before pulling back, his hand tracing down Hannibal’s arm before coming to entwine their fingers together. Hannibal regarded him quietly, his back still pressed against the wall, his body alive with arousal._ _

__“Okay,” Will said. “Can we order some food?”_ _

__Hannibal smiled and brought their locked hands to his lips, taking care to kiss all of Will’s fingers that he could reach._ _


	5. 96 Hours

With his eyes still closed, Will felt his body slowly wake and he groaned softly and stretched, his limbs vibrating with the effort. The heavenly softness of the bed was warm and enveloping and for a moment he couldn’t imagine that anything would make him climb out of it.

Until he smelled eggs and bacon.

Sitting up he swung his bare feet down on the carpet and made his way to the bathroom. Squinting his eyes at the light Will appraised himself in the mirror. His hair was a mess and his eyes still looked tired in spite of the blissful sleep he’d had. There were several blush bruises on his neck that brought a redness to the tips of his ears.

After they’d enjoyed their dinner, Hannibal had cleared their plates and stopped at Will’s side as he made his way back. He’d let his fingers rest on the side of Will’s neck as he’d waited. It had only been a moment before Will had stood and followed him to the plush couch. He’d remembered feeling like a nervous teenager as he’d sunk into the cushions, Hannibal’s hand coming to rest on his knee.

There had been gentle talk of boundaries and hesitations but it had come between ragged breaths and groping hands. At some point Will had come to straddle Hannibal’s lap, a knee on either side of his thighs. He remembered Hannibal’s mouth tasting like wine and feeling his body hard under him. He’d had visions of them moving back to Hannibal’s bed but the lump in his throat kept the words at bay.

In the end, they’d said their goodnights and Will had retreated to his own room. He’d pleasured himself while Hannibal’s scent still enveloped him.

He’d idly wondered if Hannibal had done the same.

Will rubbed at the marks on his neck and then carefully pulled the collar of his shirt down, his fingers making their way to the stitches on his chest and then to the healing slit on his cheek.

  
After brushing his teeth he made his way back to the bedroom and slid into his jeans, leaving the plain white shirt on that he’d slept in.

He came to a stop in front of the door that connected his room with Hannibal’s and softly rapped his knuckles against it.

“Come in, Will.”

For a very brief moment, Will’s mind conjured the image of Hannibal’s office as he opened the door and stepped into the other room. Hannibal was standing with his back to him, the sleeves of his white button up rolled to the elbows. Tailored dark slacks and dress shoes made up the rest of him; he seemed familiar.

“Your timing is impeccable,” he said as he turned around with a full plate in his hand. “Please sit.”

There were two settings made up on the table in the living room, complete with a steaming cup of coffee at each. No sooner had Will had taken a seat than a plate was placed in front of him. Hannibal had prepared a breakfast of scrambled eggs mixed with onion, spinach and mushrooms, two rashers of thick bacon and a thin slice of toast with smoked salmon. It lacked the dramatic flare of meals he’d prepared for him in the past but for how hungry Will was he was glad for that; it had always felt somewhat disrespectful to destroy Hannibal’s designs.

“That smells wonderful,” Will said. “Thank you.”

“You’re welcome.”

Hannibal retreated back to the small kitchen to fetch his plate and then took a seat opposite Will. They ate in silence for a few moments, their healing bodies craving nutrition.

“How did you sleep?”

Will’s mind involuntarily raced back to his sticky right hand and racing heart.

“Good,” he said. “You?”

“I as well,” Hannibal answered.

Will took a sip of his coffee.

“How did you do this?” he asked, motioning to his plate. “I mean, did you go out?”

“I did,” Hannibal said. “There is a lovely market not too far from here and I was able to get everything needed for this morning.”

“Do you think it’s a good idea to be out and about?”

Hannibal wiped at his mouth with the cloth napkin.

“Perfectly fine, Will,” he said. “You must remember I’ve done with many times before.”

He was right. Of course he was right. Still, Will couldn’t help but feel anxious.

“I would like to take you out and procure some new clothes for you,” Hannibal added. “However, if you’d prefer to remain here I can do it for you.”

Will considered it for a moment but ultimately decided that he’d more than likely be more nervous alone in the hotel, worrying if Hannibal would come back or not. And if they were to be arrested, he’d rather it happen while they were together.

“No, that’s fine. I’ll go.”

“Wonderful,” Hannibal said, his eyes brightened.

**

After breakfast they’d made their way down to Newbury Street where Will had selected several new button-ups and a few more short sleeved shirts which Hannibal had paid for in cash. The city buzzed with energy and though the sky above was blue and the sun was warm on his skin Will felt tense, as though he was being swallowed alive with glares. It was as if everyone was staring at him - through him. Questioning.

Was that that guy who’d killed all those people? Was that that guy who’d let that cannibal serial killer lose? Was that the very same murderer who was walking alongside him now?

Feeling his anxiety, Hannibal grabbed him by the wrist and gently pulled him to the side of the sidewalk.

“Will, everything is fine.”The younger man sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair.

“I know,” he said. “It’s just a lot.”

Nodding, Hannibal attempted to meet his gaze and instead looked down the street when he found that he could not.

“Let’s head back toward the hotel,” he said. “We can stop at the market on the way back for dinner and then retire to the rooms.”

Will nodded and immediately starting walking in the direction opposite of which they’d come.

How the fuck was he going to keep it together at the airport?

He was so lost in thought that he walked right by the market, jumping slightly at the feel of Hannibal’s hand on his elbow as he was pulled back gently and toward the door.

As they stepped inside, Hannibal looked for his eyes again.

“This will only take a moment,” he said. “Do you have any preference for what you’d like to have this evening?”

_My name is Will Graham. It’s 2 PM. I’m in Boston and Hannibal Lecter wants to know what I’d like for dinner._

“I don’t know,” he said.

Grabbing a small plastic hand basket, Hannibal pressed him gently. “Say the first thing that comes into your mind,” he said.

_Like it’s your last meal before your execution._

“A cheeseburger, fries, and beer.”

Hannibal’s eyebrows lifted.

“Very good,” he said. “Then that’s what we’ll have.”

True to his word, Hannibal made quick work of navigating the store and grabbing what he needed. It wasn’t long before the small basket was full - comically full for what Will considered to be such a simple dinner - and they were checking out.

The moment they stepped back into the hotel, Will instantly felt calmer. As they came to their rooms, he pulled his keycard out of his back pocket.

“Thank you, again,” Will said as he gestured to the shopping bags. “I’m going to shower and change.”

Without another word he opened the door and slipped inside. The moment he clicked the deadbolt into place, Will dropped and bags and sank to the floor against the door, his knees pulled up to his chest. There was sweat forming on his forehead and upper lip and his pulse was dancing in his throat.

This was too much.

What was he doing?

What the actual fuck was he doing?

As he leaned his head back against the door, Will rubbed his eyes.

I guess shrugging off the coil of morality was a bit harder than originally anticipated.

Concentrating on his breathing, Will focused on his breath until the world stopped vibrating around him. As his mind cleared, he carefully considered his options. He could pick up the phone right now and call Jack. He could tell him he’d been coerced, brainwashed, drugged, whatever. It didn’t matter. The Great Red Dragon had been killed in self defense and after that he’d lost himself to Hannibal’s machinations.

He could walk out the door right now and leave with nothing other that what he had. Get on a bus and head back to Wolf Trap. He could see his dogs and fall asleep with them around the electric heater.

Or he could get up and take a shower before changing into his new clothes and join Hannibal Lecter for dinner before the two of them hopped a plane to Argentina.

Playing out the scenarios in his head made it easier.

_Say the first thing that comes into your mind._

Pushing his knees away, Will came to stand and stripped off his clothes. He smiled as the hot water of the shower hit his skin.

**

  
Once he’d gotten dressed, Will knocked on Hannibal’s door, opening it before receiving permission. He found Hannibal sitting on the couch with his legs crossed, a paperback book in his hand.

“Would you mind if I shared your space?”

Hannibal said nothing but nodded and gestured to the couch opposite him. Gratefully, Will came to lay down on it as Hannibal went back to his book. He must have dozed off because the next thing he remembered was the smell of onions and garlic wafting into his nose. Peaking over the back of the couch Will watched him for a moment before he sat up and walked over to the small kitchen island.

“Once again Will your timing is perfect,” he said. “I am just about done.”

“Or I’m just driven by food.”

Hannibal laughed a little as he dumped the hot onions and garlic in the bowl of ground beef, forming it into two patties. It was as if he glided though his work.

“There is some beer in the refrigerator if you wouldn’t mind.”

Walking over to the small fridge Will picked up two bottles of a golden ale and poured them both into two glasses. Leaving them on the island he opened a couple of drawers before he located the silverware and made the table, placing a glass of beer at each place setting. As he headed back, Hannibal was finishing up the plates. Will could feel his mouth water as Hannibal placed a few potato wages on each plate and then picked them both up and headed to the table.

They made small conversation about the plans for the airport tomorrow between bites. Though Hannibal’s words were reassuring, Will felt as if he were grasping at air, struggling to ground himself. The world was starting to spin.

His food was gone and Hannibal had stopped talking. Looking up, he found Hannibal staring at him from across the table.

“Can I stay with you tonight?”

The marks on his throat seemed to throb.

“Of course.”

Before he could let himself think too much about it, Will rose to his feet and quickly closed the distance between the two of them. Hannibal looked up from his seated position as Will lowered his hands to his shoulders and fell to his knees in front of him, pushing their lips together. Hannibal seemed less cautious than he had previously as he opened his mouth against his and came to his feet, pulling Will with him.

Will fumbled with the buttons of Hannibal’s shirt as the older man walked backwards into the bedroom, leaving the dirty dishes on the table - a gesture which excited Will in its uncharacteristic desperateness. They’d managed to rid themselves of both their shirts before Hannibal’s heels hit the bed and they went tumbling down, Will’s hands leaving Hannibal’s body to catch his weight as he landed on top of him.

Laying between his open legs, Will’s hands came to rest beside Hannibal’s head on the sheets as their bare chests pressed together. The hands that had been gentle and testing the night before were hard and hungry now.

Will heard the sound of Hannibal’s shoes hitting the floor as he pushed them off and he pulled back to undo the top button of his jeans. Before he was able to finish Hannibal had a palm on his chest and his other arm around his back, flipping him over onto his backside and coming to stand at the foot of the bed. Hannibal’s hands gripped at the waistband of his jeans and pulled them down, Will kicking his legs in assistance.

When Hannibal came back to him, he’d stripped down to his briefs. Will reached for him as he crawled up his body and came to lay between his legs, Will’s feet curling around ankles. As their mouths continued to grind together, Hannibal’s hand slipped to the waistband of his boxers and slowly crawled under the band.

The bedroom was thick with the sound of lips and ragged breath.

As the dry fingers touched him, Will’s mouth fell slack, breaking their fury of kisses. Hannibal lifted his head slightly so that he could look down into his eyes as he wrapped his fingers around him and started to move up and down. Will could feel a warmth building in his belly and the pressure of Hannibal’s erection pressed against his thigh.

Breaking their gaze, Hannibal released his grip and moved down Will’s body to remove his boxers, his own only remaining garment soon following. With a hand on his shoulder, Hannibal pushed Will onto his side and came to lay behind him, his arousal pressing firmly against his ass.

Will stopped breathing and went rigid.

“I won’t do anything you don’t want me to do,” came a velvet reassurance in his ear.

Will’s body quickly relaxed as he felt the pressure of lips on his neck, the hard body behind him rocking against his back with a building rhythm. Bringing his hand from Will’s shoulder to his own mouth, Hannibal licked at his palm before finding Will’s straining cock again.

“Fuck,” Will exhaled as he pushed the back of his head against Hannibal’s throat.

Working his slicked fist up and down, Hannibal continued to rock his body up against him, each thrust getting harder and more unforgiving. Will pushed back against him with all the force he had as he felt himself growing embarrassingly close to a quick release. Hearing the small whimpers start to pour from his lips, Hannibal continuing working his cock but pulled his upper body back slightly so that his free arm could slide up and around Will’s head, coming to grab his throat.

Will opened his eyes at the pressure and reflexively shot a hand up to grip at Hannibal’s fingers, though he made no effort to pry them off. Keeping his hand at his throat, Hannibal increased the pressure just slightly as he bit into the flesh of Will’s shoulder hard enough that Will cried out. Then the fingers at his throat released their grip as Will felt a warm wetness sputtering again his lower back.

The desperate sound Hannibal made as he came was enough to push Will over and he gripped the sheets of the bed as he released himself into Hannibal’s hand. The fingers on his cock continued to work up and down, though the pace had slowed. Will tilted his head back, feeling the back of his skull connect with Hannibal’s chin.

They lay like that, listening to their panting breaths.

Hannibal released his hand and rolled over to his back with a small groan, Will soon following. Their shoulders touched, the rise and fall of their chests slowly leveling out. His body feeling heavy, Will recalled being in this same position with Hannibal only days ago after he’d pulled him out of the ocean.

Reaching down, Will found Hannibal’s sticky hand and pressed his own against it, their fingers interlocking before they both fell asleep.

**

Several hours later, Will woke to a sound he didn’t recognize. Opening his eyes, he discovered that he and Hannibal had both managed to crawl under the covers of the bed together. Will stared up at the ceiling while he waited to see if the noise repeated itself.

When it did - a foreign call - he rolled to his side and found the features of Hannibal’s face twitching as he dreamed, his eyebrows knotted together. Will watched him for a moment, his lips moving though no additional sounds came, before he placed a hand on the side of his face and brought his lips to his ear. “Wake up.”

Hannibal’s eyes opened immediately, though slowly, and he opened his mouth as he turned to face Will. Looking at him for a moment, he grazed the side of his face with his knuckles before he pulled himself forward and put his head on Will’s chest, his arm coming to rest over the scar on his stomach.

Will’s hand found the nape of his neck.

“ _Aš pasiilgau tavęs_ ,” came a whisper against his chest.


	6. 120 Hours

 

There was a balanced weight on his hips and a soft pressure of lips on his shoulder.

The back of his neck.

His spine.

Each kiss was lingering and careful.

Laying on his stomach, Will opened his eyes and blinked as Hannibal’s wrist and forearm came into focus. With a knee on either side of his lower back and his hands pushed into the mattress on either side of Will’s head, Hannibal leaned his body down as he felt Will move under him.

“You’re awake,” Will mumbled, his cheek resting against the sheets.

Pressing his chest flush against his back, Hannibal’s lips made their way to Will’s ear.

 “So are you.”

The feel of his breath raised a chill on his skin and Will pushed a hand out to wrap around Hannibal’s wrist, his thumb softy stroking the scar he’d put there. He could feel the tickle of Hannibal’s hair as he kissed his shoulder again, tender from where his teeth had sunk in the night before. He twitched slightly in discomfort before settling back into Hannibal’s attentions. 

The weight on him felt suffocating and secure.

In the small part of his mind that still cared about such things, Will found himself wondering what this meant. He’d never been a confident man, but he had always been steadfast in his attraction to women. He had never found himself attracted to men before, never so much as had a drunken passing thought about a friend in college. And yet here he was, pressed under the weight of a naked Hannibal Lecter who was kissing gentle apologies into the flesh he’d broken while they . . . while they what?

Fucked? Can you fuck without penetration? Had sex? What does it really mean to "have sex”? Made love? Was it love?

And now what? Where did they go from here? It was obvious that the both of them had enjoyed themselves and neither one of them had felt the urge to slink away during the night. So would this happen again? Hannibal seemed to know what he was doing, was he bothered that Will didn’t? What would he expect in the future?

_If you’d like to proceed I would be delighted; if you’d like to stop, I would be delighted._

As the kisses to his shoulder continued, Will closed his eyes and realized that ultimately it didn’t matter. He didn’t care. Never in his life had he felt so sure of who and what he was and in spite of everything that was happening, he’d never felt more grounded and sure of himself.

The feel of Hannibal’s hardening body pushing into his backside seemed to indicate that he felt the same way.

With a soft groan, Will rolled over onto his back - careful not to dislodge the knees by his hips - and grabbed at the back of Hannibal’s neck, pulling him down to meet his lips. Hannibal’s weight was heavy on his thighs as their mouths worked against each other, slowly at first but soon building to a quick rhythm. Will’s fingers grasped at the muscles of the shoulders hovering over him, moving down to hard triceps before pushing back up.

Hannibal’s hair was disheveled and brushing against his forehead, his tongue sliding into his mouth and over his lips. It only took a moment before Will found himself painfully excited. Pulling his mouth away, Hannibal kissed under his left eye before moving to his ear.

“Would you let me taste you?’

It was a breathy and delicate request that forced a moan from his lips and sent to volt of electricity straight between his legs.

“Yes.”

Moving away from his ear, Hannibal kissed his lips again before he moved a knee from Will’s side and pushed it between his thighs, prying them apart. He came to kneel between his legs as his hands held his chest in place, lips moving down his body with slow, drawn out kisses. When he reached the long scar under his navel he paused, working his mouth slowly across the length of it.

Will’s chest rose and fell with deep, long breaths, his toes twitching in anticipation and anxiety.

Bringing a hand to his face, Hannibal licked at his own palm several times before he brought it down between their bodies and grasped at the base of Will’s cock. Exhaling loudly, Will pushed himself back into the pillows as that hand slowly started to move up and down, Hannibal’s mouth still concentrated on the scarred flesh of his abdomen.

“God,” Will exhaled to no one in particular.

Encouraged, Hannibal continued to work his hand up, down and around, his fingers brushing along the tip gently as his teeth nipped into Will’s skin. Hissing, Will arched his back slightly and moved to grab at Hannibal’s head, making a small fist in his hair. He released his grip as Hannibal moved away and further down his body. In one moment, his hand was gone and in another he was fully wrapped in a delicious wet heat.

Old, long forgotten prayers tumbled out of his mouth as Hannibal worked his way up and down his cock, his cheeks hollowing as he took him back as deeply as he could. Hannibal’s hand came back, moving up and down his shaft with ease with the aid of Hannibal’s salvia; his tongue and lips danced around the head.

Everything in Will’s body was on fire and he could feel the sheets around him becoming damp with perspiration. His fingers clenched into fists as he felt a familiar build of nerves and for one clarifying moment, he panicked.

“Hannibal,” he managed. “You need - you need to stop.”

The attentions slowed but did not cease.

“Please,” he whispered. “Please, stop.”

Pulling away, Hannibal released him and sought his eyes through the grey of his hair. The look of confusion and worry on his face hit Will like a kick in the gut. The older man came to sit up on his knees between his legs.

“Are you alright?” Hannibal asked, his face flushed.

Embarrassed, Will pushed his palms into his face.

“Yeah, I’m sorry,” he said. “I’m fine. I’m great. I just didn’t - I didn’t want to - ”

He felt Hannibal fingers hook under his own, pulling his hands away from his face.

“I was almost there and I didn’t know what to do,” he said.

Exhaling with a puff of relief, Hannibal smiled and kissed his mouth almost chastely; Will could taste himself there.

“I asked if I could taste you, Will,” he said. “I meant all of you.”

A strong chill ran down his body as a blush rose around his neck. Hannibal leaned down and kissed him again, this time with more vigor. He pulled away and kissed the line of Will’s jaw, his hands gently closing around his neck.

“May I?”

Hannibal felt Will swallow against the skin of his fingers.

 “God, yes,” he said. “Yes.”

With a final kiss pressed to the soft spot between his earlobe and jaw, Hannibal fell back down the length of Will’s body, licking his lips with a wet smack, and took him back inside his mouth and throat. 

It was only after a moment that Will felt the heat building back up, as if it had never waned; he felt himself running at breakneck speed over the edge of the cliff. He tried to call out another warning but his words failed him as his body was rocked with the force of his muscles contracting, his cock spilling while Hannibal continued to take him in, his tongue swirling around the length of him.

“Jesus Christ,” he muttered.

He felt the muscles in Hannibal’s throat close around him as the thickness of his tongue continued lapping at him from the inside. Will’s body felt numb and he imagined sinking into the mattress at his back.

Above him, Hannibal gently pulled away, licking at his lips again before he kissed his way back up Will’s body. As he moved to climb over him, Will stopped him with a hand on his shoulder.

“No, stay like this,” he said. “Just for a moment,”

Hannibal pressed their lips together before he obliged, resting the full weight of his body on top of him, his face nuzzled into the crook of his neck. Will’s arm curled around his back, the other at his own hip.

_It doesn’t need a name. This just is._

 

_**_

Pulling off his seatbelt, Will opened the door of the back of the taxi and stepped into the cool New England night air. As Hannibal paid their fare he retrieved their bags from the truck and closed it again just as Hannibal came to stand beside him.

“Remember Will,” he said. “You must call me ‘Lucas’ around others. And you must respond to ‘Johnathan’ or ‘John’ if you’d prefer.”

“Yeah,” Will said. “I know.”

As they made their way to the gate, Will felt a building anxiety in his chest. There were so many goddamn people. Surly, one of them would recognize them. He followed behind Hannibal silently as they checked in, offering up his new passport when it was requested.

“You’re all set, guys. Enjoy your flight.”

Hannibal took their boarding passes and motioned for Will to follow him through security, offering a courteous “thank you” to the agent who’d checked them in. Near the line, a German Shepard with a “K-9” vest on patrolled back and forth. Will felt himself avoiding the dog’s eyes.

“Everything will be fine,” Hannibal whispered close to him. “I am right here with you.”

As they approached the TSA agent, Hannibal handed him their passports and boarding passes. The man examined them carefully.

“Buenos Aires, huh?”

“Yes.”

“My wife and I went there for our honeymoon. You all headed there for business or pleasure?”

“A mixture of both, we hope.”

Will watched the ease at which Hannibal spoke. This was so natural to him.

“You’re all set.”

Hannibal thanked him as he took their passports back, handing Will his and they continued through security. It wasn’t until they’d collected the bags after they’d cleared the x-rays that Will felt himself calm a bit. With a gentle hand on the small of his back, Hannibal led him to their gate. The crowds seemed thinner, the nosies less intrusive. By the time they’d made their way to the gate, the plane would be boarding soon.

Will looked at the gate information.

Boston - Buenos Aires.

He concentrated on the feel of the ground under his feet. The feel of Boston, of the United States. He wondered strangely if the ground would feel different on the other side of the world.

“They’re calling us.”

Will looked up as the gate agent welcomed them both with a warm smile, scanning their boarding passes before they made their way down the gateway which was vibrating gently with the energy of the engines outside.

“Good evening, gentlemen. May I offer you anything to drink before we take off?’

Hannibal smiled at her and requested two glasses of champagne as another attendant took their bags and placed them in the overhead compartment above their seats. Will followed as Hannibal took his seat at the window of their row, coming to sit in the ridiculously plush first class seat next to him. He barely had the time to put his seatbelt on before the flight attendant was back with their drinks.

When Will failed to collect his, Hannibal took both glasses from her.

“Nervous flyer,” Hannibal whispered.

Will looked up.

“I’m sorry, yeah,” he said. “It’s not my favorite thing.”

“Oh, don’t worry,” she said. “That’ll help.”

With a smile she left and Will leaned back and looked the glass that Hannibal offered him. He tried not to sip it too quickly as the other passengers passed by them. He felt the cool bubbles working their way down his throat and into his stomach. Hannibal placed a careful hand on his knee, squeezing lightly before putting it back on his own arm rest.

Will listened to the thundering between his ears as the plane pulled back from the gate with a jolt. Looking over Hannibal’s shoulder, he stared out at the dark runway and found it illuminatedonly with small white lights and not flashing red and blue. As they taxied to the runway his heels bounced against the floor.

And then came the roar of the engines, his body pushed back into the seat with the speed. Then came a momentary feeling of pure weightlessness as they left the ground and Will’s mind raced back to the night he’d thrown himself and Hannibal over the cliff. Only this time there would be no bone shattering descent into a salty abyss, but rather a clear and smooth ascension to a new life and identity.

For a moment, Will thought of his dogs and became unbearably sad; he hoped they’d think he’d died and not abandoned them.

The flight attendants rose to their feet as the plane reached its cruising altitude, preparing to take dinner orders.Will fought against the stinging at the bridge of his nose as his eyes threatened to fill with tears. He turned to his left to find Hannibal staring at him, his features calm as always but his eyes betraying his concern.

Putting a hand on the side of his neck, he pulled Hannibal to him and pressed a closed mouth kiss to his lips.

It felt different; kissing him in public.

He felt Hannibal’s hand wrap around his wrist immediately though not to push him away as he anticipated but to hold onto him. Will lingered against his mouth for only a moment, enough to ground himself before he pulled back and settled into his seat, Hannibal stroking the skin of his wrist with his thumb before letting him go.

“Good evening, gentlemen. Your menus for this evening.”

They thanked her as the flight attendant walked away with the promise of returning momentarily to take their orders. As Will’s eyes scanned over the menu he considered that this was to be the first of many meals together, though this would be one of the rare occasions where neither of them intimately knew the source of the protein.

Will looked back at Hannibal as the older man’s eyes scanned over the menu, no doubt working out which wine would best pair with whatever meal he’d selected. Will thought about Hannibal’s eyes the night they’d killed The Great Red Dragon. He thought about Hannibal leaping onto his back to hold him as Will had slashed him open, Hannibal ripping the flesh from his throat.

Will found himself very warm.

“Have you made your decision, sir?”

Will turned and looked up.

“Yes. Yes, I’m ready."

 

 

The End. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> That's it, folks! Thanks so much to everyone who read and commented. I haven't written fanfiction in so long and I've been anxious about posting stuff but this fandom is just tremendous.


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